Breakdown
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: House/Cuddy. They tell each other one fantasy, one hope, one regret.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own House M.D., nor the characters.**  
Chapter:** Oneshot.**  
Author's Note:** My second cuddyfest prompt over at LJ. I really enjoyed writing this one.

* * *

"What doesn't kill you will only make you stronger," House said and gave a side glance to Cuddy.

"So I've learned," Cuddy replied and kept her eyes on the road ahead of her.

House leaned into the passenger seat and watched as they passed a dead deer on the side of the road. "I could only assume you don't mean me."

"I just need to get out of this car," Cuddy muttered, but House heard her anyway.

"You wanted to drive," he pointed out and placed his attention back on her.

"No." Cuddy shot him a look. "I wanted to fly. But, the only available flight was too late."

House was quiet for a moment. He looked out the window and turned his head back to Cuddy. He lowered his gaze to the gauges on her dashboard.

"You know, your gas gauge hasn't gone down for a few hours," House told her.

"What?" Cuddy's head snapped in his direction for a second before she looked back out at the road.

"It hasn't moved." House pointed with his finger this time.

"Shit." Cuddy glanced at the gas gauge. "I better get gas."

"In forty miles." House nodded at a passing sign.

"Are you serious?" Cuddy glanced back at the sign before directing her focus back on the road. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

House shrugged. Cuddy rolled her eyes and then a frown set itself on her face for the next five miles until her car started to slow.

"Shit," Cuddy cursed again and House had to hide his smirk.

Cuddy pulled over to the side of the road and watched as a car zipped by them. She put her hazards on and let her head fall back against the seat. She looked toward House.

"How many miles back to a town?" Cuddy asked him.

"'Bout twenty," House answered and shrugged for a second time.

"I'm going to find the nearest gas station or garage," Cuddy told him. "Stay in the car and don't touch anything."

Cuddy stepped outside the car as she dialed on her cell phone. House let out a sigh and popped open the glove compartment. He pulled out the registration for the car and Cuddy's insurance card. There was also a small pack of tissues in there and anti bacterial hand gel.

House reached over and pulled out the plug to the outlet where Cuddy usually charged her cell phone. He tossed the plug into the glove compartment and placed the other things back inside. He slammed the glove compartment closed.

Cuddy opened her car door and climbed inside. She kept her eyes on House.

"I got in touch with a garage," she informed him. "They said they'd be able to send someone out in a few hours with gas."

"Why didn't you just call a tow truck?" House asked.

"It'd take the same amount of time, but backtrack us," Cuddy replied.

House frowned. "I think getting a tow truck would be a hell of a lot faster than getting that can of gas out here."

"Then, call a tow truck," Cuddy snapped.

"I'm not paying for it," House shot back.

Cuddy folded her arms over her chest and looked out the driver's side window. She hoped by some stroke of luck, a car would stop and just happen to have a gas can with him. Or, at least, offer to help in another way. However, she knew chances were slim to none.

House was growing more bored as each second passed and he was now thinking that this wasn't as great a plan as he thought it was. He let out a sigh.

"It's getting hot," House said.

"I can't turn on the air." Cuddy didn't even bother to look at him as she addressed him.

House opened his car door and glanced at Cuddy. "Let's sit outside."

Cuddy turned her head to look at him. "No."

"Fine." House shrugged. "Get overheated."

House climbed out of the car and shut his door. Cuddy directed her gaze back out her window, annoyed with House for not letting her know about the gas gauge. After another minute passed, she let out a frustrated sigh and got out of the car.

Cuddy looked for House and saw that he had climbed over the guardrail. He was sitting on a slight slope, pulling apart a dandelion. Cuddy made her way around the car and stood next to the guardrail.

"We should flag down cars," Cuddy told him.

House glanced up at her. "What's the point?"

Cuddy climbed over the guardrail, glad she put on jeans to travel. She stepped up alongside of House and sat down next to him.

"I didn't want to go to that stupid thing anyway." House noticed Cuddy seemed upset and he wanted to downplay the fact that they wouldn't make it to the convention in time.

"Well, you should have," Cuddy replied. "They were giving you an award. But, we won't make it in time now."

House stared at her, eyebrows drawn. "An award for what?"

"Not your bedside manner," Cuddy shot back. She let out a sigh, regretting her comment. Her eyes met House's. "Your track record in diagnostics. Apparently, it's impressive even if you're crazy. I need my sunglasses."

"Good luck finding them," House told her.

"You hid them?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Where?"

House shrugged in response. Cuddy remained seated and looked away from House. He gave her a nudge.

"Hey."

Cuddy directed her eyes back over to him.

"You've been weird lately," House said.

Cuddy turned away again. "Yeah, well..."

"Well, what?" House prompted.

Cuddy paused a moment and then turned her attention back on House. "Do you regret anything?"

House cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a serious question?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered.

"I regret not staring at your ass more," House offered.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "House."

"What do you regret?" he asked, completely serious.

"You first," Cuddy was quick to reply.

"I already told you," House reminded her and placed a smirk on his face.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Never mind."

House gave her another nudge. "What's been eatin' you, Gilbert Grape?"

Cuddy plucked a dandelion from the grass and twirled it between her fingers, giving the plant her full attention. House eyed her up, waiting.

"I've miscarried twice." Her voice was soft. "Once when I was doing fertility treatments. Once a _long_ time ago."

"What do you care?" House's tone contrasted hers. "It's not your fault."

"No." Cuddy snapped the head of the dandelion off with her thumb. "It is. I was stressed. When I..." She let the stem fall from her hand. "The first time, I was relieved. I couldn't have a baby then. I was so involved in my career, I was being looked at for the position as the dean. I knew I couldn't have a baby if I wanted that job."

House raised his eyebrows. "You sure you didn't abort it?"

"Crossed my mind." Cuddy shrugged. "But, I was stressed, I wasn't eating well, and I wasn't sleeping well either. I was busy all the time. Miscarriage."

"And you regret it?" House wanted to figure out what _exactly_ Cuddy was getting at.

Cuddy brought her eyes to House. "I want a baby. Now." She looked back down at the ground. "The second time, I messed up again. I knew I was working too hard. I knew I had to rest, but things were hectic and you were-"

She cut herself off. House realized why. He hadn't made anything easier on her during her stressful time of trying to get pregnant.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his tone softer now.

"No." Cuddy directed her gaze back to him. "It's not- I don't blame you."

"Thanks," House laced the word with sarcasm.

House placed his hands behind his head and flopped back onto the grass. His back hit the ground hard, but he didn't mind that much. He squinted against the sun.

"Why did you tell me that?" House directed his question at her.

"You asked," Cuddy said.

"Didn't think you'd tell me," House replied.

"Sorry." Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I'll take it back."

"Can't now," House told her. "You already said it." He waited for a reaction from her, but she didn't give him one. "Well, now we're in a sour mood." House sat up. "I know what will perk us up a bit."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "Please. Do share."

"Got a fantasy?" A smirk tugged at House's lips.

"Excuse me?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows at him.

"A fantasy," House repeated. "Sex."

"Oh my God." Cuddy covered her eyes with her hand.

House ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

Cuddy lowered her hand and directed her eyes to House. "Show?"

"Show and tell?" House tried. "No? Just tell?"

"Neither," Cuddy replied.

"Come on." House smirked again. "I know it involves me."

"Your ego's showing," Cuddy told him.

"It's always showing," House said.

Cuddy leaned slightly closer to House. "I'm not telling you a thing."

House pointed a finger at Cuddy. "It does involve me."

"No." Cuddy shook her head.

"So, you have a fantasy then?" House gave a nod.

"Stop." The word was crisp as it came from Cuddy's mouth.

"Mine involves a pair of handcuffs," House confided.

"House," Cuddy warned.

"And a blindfold," House added.

Cuddy covered her ears, trying to block him out.

"I know you're still listening." House paused a moment before his smirk widened. "And as I'm anxiously awaiting, _naked_, all tied up, I hear Wilson enter."

Cuddy almost gave herself whiplash as she looked to him. "What?"

"I knew you were listening." House was pleased that he was right. "Just replace Wilson with you and you've got my fantasy. Your turn."

Cuddy glared at him before looking away. She spotted a car driving down the road. Cuddy stood quickly and waved at the car, but it passed by them.

"Son of a bitch." Cuddy sat back down.

House raised his eyebrows as he stared at Cuddy. "Your fantasy, madam?"

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him.

"Come on," House coaxed.

"I have this bizarre fantasy that you'll actually be obedient and learn to behave," Cuddy said.

"Kinky," House replied.

"I didn't mean sex," she snarled.

Cuddy looked back out at the highway. She squinted against the sun again and wished she knew where her sunglasses were. House drew in a breath, his eyes on her. He gave her a light nudge. Cuddy brought her gaze back to him.

"What do you hope for?" House asked her. "Not a wish, a hope. Something that _can_ happen, but probably won't."

"I'm not playing your games anymore," Cuddy told him.

House shook his head. "There isn't a hidden agenda, Cuddy. I was just trying to engage you in conversation."

"Right." Cuddy gave a short nod.

"Really." House nudged her again. "What do you hope for? In the future."

Cuddy stared at him for a long moment. She directed her attention to the ground and picked another dandelion.

"I'm going to get a baby." Cuddy twirled the dandelion. "Whether I have the baby myself or adopt. I just hope I will be a good mother." She let the flower drop. "Something that can happen, but probably won't."

Cuddy lifted her head and gave House a tight smile. House softened slightly as he held her eye contact.

"You'll be a good mom," House said.

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "You don't believe that."

"You don't know what I believe," he replied.

She frowned at him. "Yeah? And what do you hope for?"

House shrugged. "I hope that gas comes soon."

"Hey." Cuddy shot him a look. "I shared with you."

"And I shared with you," House told her.

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed, "but not something that meant anything."

"Fine." House paused a moment. "I hope I won't be in pain anymore."

Cuddy cocked an eyebrow. "That sounds more like a wish when you have that thigh of yours."

House frowned. "Not exactly what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Cuddy asked.

"I have other pain, Cuddy," House answered her.

Cuddy appeared concerned. "Where?"

House let out a small sigh and looked away from Cuddy.

"House." Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Are you having pains somewhere else?"

"Never mind." House's eyes were focused on her car.

Cuddy suddenly realized what House meant. "Oh. I think I get it." When House didn't offer to continue the conversation, she went on. "Why don't we ever talk like this at work?"

"Because you're a bitch." House brought his gaze back to her.

"And probably because you're cynical and egotistical," Cuddy insulted him right back.

"Probably." House fell silent again.

Cuddy picked up the dandelion she had previously plucked and ran the yellow petals over her hand.

"We won't mention this when we're back," Cuddy spoke up. "I don't want people to know about-"

"Yeah," House cut her off, his eyes back on the car.

Cuddy bit her lower lip. "If you ever want to talk-"

"No." House looked over at her. "I just wanted to get inside your head."

"Well, I got inside yours, too," Cuddy pointed out.

"If I told you the truth," House replied.

"Yeah," Cuddy said. "And if I told you the truth."

House's eyes were locked with hers. "You did."

"Why do you do this, House?"

Cuddy stood to her feet and walked away from him. She stopped next to the guardrail, her arms folded across her chest.

"'Cause my pain is too much to bear alone, Cuddy dearest," House muttered, his tone was half mocking, half serious. He let out a quiet sigh and plucked a dandelion from the dirt.


End file.
